


vindicta

by rjlupin1031



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Murder Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjlupin1031/pseuds/rjlupin1031
Summary: "I wasn't born a killer, but apparently I am a natural.Bad things happened to me.Bad things also happen to bad people. "Sansa seeks revenge for the loss of her family and for the terrible things that have been done to her. Petyr is a detective on the case. He has a hidden past that allows him to be able understand the inside of killer's mind almost perfectly. What happens when past meets present?
Relationships: Alayne Stone/Littlefinger, Alayne Stone/Petyr Baelish, Sansa Stark/Littlefinger, Sansa Stark/Petyr Baelish, Sansa/Petyr
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

I wasn't born a killer, but apparently I am a natural.

Bad things happened to me. 

Bad things also happen to bad people. 

Everyone I have ever loved is dead by murder. My father. My mother. My brothers. My sister. Everyone murdered in cold blood. Their cases swept under the rugs. It started again when the old man couldn't remember my name. He could only stare at my hair and my tits. Mainly my tits. He was disgusting but I decided to play a game.  
Power makes you feel strong. 

Forgetting the past makes you weak.

When killers are interviewed, they never talk about their first kill and what happened after they had a taste of blood. How the sense's become heightened. How the taste of minerals in the water and how the sting of the cold liquid smarts on the membranes. Witnessing a death is something else entirely. The shudder as the soul realizes the body is shutting down. Dying. I watched as the Lannister twitched out the last of his life, his cock buried inside me. 

It was beautiful and marvelous. 

The beginning of my legacy. 

And no one would suspect me, Sansa Stark, as the killer.


	2. Chapter 2

They were called to the scene of the senior Lannister's death. 

"The late senior Lannister," Petyr chuckled to himself as he exhaled, expunging his cigarette in the small tray next to his steering wheel. He drove older model cars just for the cigarette cemetery. He didn't like littering, especially when he was at a crime scene. He should quit smoking altogether as it was a nasty, messy habit. So much DNA nestled in one little habit. They caught clean killers who left their habits forgotten in the driveway. 

He never left his in the driveway. He would dispose of each last used cigarette in the fireplace nightly.

He steps out of the car onto the cobbled driveway leading up to a huge mansion of a house also made from stone. The Lannisters. Nasty people with nasty habits. Little rumors spill from this castle. He has always wanted to take a peak inside but they have kept themselves locked up tight. 

Until now. 

The father got himself killed by one of his unsavory proclivities: a hooker and erotic asphyxiation.

Petyr was impressed by the crime scene. He figured the Lannisters would keep this more under wraps but police were crawling all over the place. Jamie and Cersei were clinging to each other in one of the fancy cushioned rooms. Petyr believed rich people called it the drawing room. Based on the rumors, they were all about famalial ties. He had a hard time wiping the smirk off his face as he approached the siblings. Cersei sneered at him through red rimmed eyes. Jamie nodded, a sadness etched into his features. Looks like they aren't the killers, Petyr thought to himself. 

"Any witnesses?" Petyr went straight to business. He already didn't like the feeling in this tomb, even with the lavish furnishings. 

"If there had been, the police wouldn't be here," Cersei spat. Jamie looked at his sister, his hand that wrapped around her tightening. Her demeanor changed, less aggressive but she stayed silent as Jamie continued.

"Not that we know. The footage from our security cameras shows a woman with long black hair leaving the premises in one of our father's limos, but we haven't been able to trace the vehicle and the driver isn't answering his mobile."

"The mobile doesn't go straight to voicemail?" Petyr starts doubting this killer. Messy by leaving footprints. 

Jamie shook his head. 

"Who found your father?" Petyr found being the interviewer to always be less than desirable. Agitating.

"The maid. She came in this morning thinking father was at work and found him...in his position."

Petyr nods to them and turns to leave. 

"You better find that fucking whore," Cersei mumbles after Petyr. He hears her and smirks with his back to her as he continues his stride. Oh, he will find the killer if she is a whore. Whore's were Petyr's specialty. He could always get them to talk and the late Lannister had a reputation among them. He always found the gems. As Petyr crosses the threshold into the clicking mess of the investigation, he can't help but be impressed by the gem of a lass Tywin had found.

Tywin was tied upright in his bed, a belt firmly around his neck as the other end was tied around the frame of the bed. He was fully naked and exposed, his erection still at attention. His eyes are beyond bloodshot, stuck in a surprised gaze. All this seemed damn near textbook asphyxiation. What changed the dynamics entirely was the blood running down his chest. A deep wound from the navel to left nipple made the hair on Petyr's neck stand. The scene was definitely planned. His hand rested on his abdomen, his own scar coming to mind. It was almost identical to the wound Tywin wore. 

"I suppose this isn't a simple hooker-accidentally-kills-during-kinky-sexcapade." The whispery voice of Varys always annoyed Petyr. He acts mysterious and quiet, smiling with secrets in his eyes. Petyr spent weeks having Varys followed but the only thing that came up was his obsession with visiting the elementary school where he would watch the kids play. Petyr suspected he had a thing for children but had the decency to keep it in his pants. 

"Clever sleuthing, Varys. What was the giveaway?" Petyr really didn't want the bald man to answer him. Thankfully, a chuckle was the only response he gave. 

Petyr pointed out a couple of areas he wanted photographed before talking to the coroner about running analysis on the fluids on Tywin's appendage that was still full of vigar. At least the old man died doing what he loved best, Petyr thought to himself as he headed back to his car.

He stopped long enough to light another nasty habit. His eyes fixed on the flame long enough until the smoke filled his mouth. As the light extinguished, his eyes focused on a something red. With the waning light of the day, he could make out it was a woman with long red hair. The hue was something he hadn't seen in years, maybe decades. No, Littlefinger growled, not decades. Petyr focused harder, pulling the cigarette away from his face as if that was obstructing his view. The female turned away and walked towards the rich little neighborhood that surrounded the mansion. Petyr ignored his old friend and got into his car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: *** This chapter has deeply graphic depictions of rape and violence. Please be advised of this trigger warning!*****

My first kill wasn’t really my fault. 

I was dating a boy, a Lannister as fate would have it. Stupidly, I thought I was in love. He was charming at first. I would imagine our wedding and children. I even did that stupid thing where girl’s write their name with the boy’s last name to see what it would look like. In my mind, things were perfect with Joffrey. He was a bit odd in the sense that would have small angry outbursts or he would grab my arm too hard when I would try to kiss him. 

Then one day, I got news of my parent’s and brother’s murder. At first, the Lannister’s seemed concerned about my fate since the madman hadn’t been captured. They kept me in their fortress, safe and hidden from the public eye. I became a permanent fixture in their life, and Joffrey’s outbursts became bigger and more violent. When I think back, it progressed so fast. He would tie me up and beat the shit out of me. His mother’s solution was telling him not to leave marks in obvious areas. She would console me, laughably, by reminding me of the woman’s duty to her future husband. I was continuously brainwashed into thinking I wanted to be his future partner. He would avoid my arms, face, and neck but that left the rest of my body in bruises. I had been kidnapped by my boyfriend’s family, a prisoner that was worthless to them other than my inheritance. I still had two more years until then. As long as I was alive, they could give two shits about what happened to me in the interim. The wounds on my body never really went away. He soon became bored of me and traded me off like I was a parcel.

I was enslaved to the Bolton boy. He was batshit crazy. I hadn't felt true pain until I entered his house. I hadn’t realized how soft Joffrey had been with his lashings. Ramsey didn't care if someone could see my marks. He was intent on making my beautiful face discolored and hideous. He would laugh if my eyes were swollen shut. He claimed he loved the hues of a bruise, a rare rainbow. He would beat me during the day and rape me during the night. His teeth left marks on my already damaged skin. He didn't care if my cunt was dry at first. He said he knew I would warm up. My insides ripped constantly. I prayed for death. Many times I begged for it while he rammed into me, cackling about how beautiful my beaten and broken body was. He would grip my neck and with a wild look in his eyes, he would tell me how he couldn't wait for the day that he could take our relationship to the end. I prayed for that day.  
He loved leaving his dogs hungry. On the days my marks were the freshest, he would take me to those beasts. He would laugh as they snapped and barked. I could smell their hunger on their stinking breaths.

I empathized with those beautiful animals. They too were prisoners, pieces in Ramsey's game. It wasn't their fault they were hungry and angry, unable to control their murderous desire to survive.

There were times when Ramsey left his home for a weekend trip. He said he needed more than our relationship allowed. My stomach churned at what could be happening and to whom. It was in those moments I took solace in the silence and found myself in the cold, snow covered gardens. I would spend the whole day out there. I wouldn't care that I couldn't feel my feet, hands or ears. At last, I was numb.

It was in those moments I could see everything so clearly.

My predicament. My enslaved status.

I could also see my freedom just outside the walls.

I started visiting the dogs while he was gone, feeding them small amounts of meat. It took six months for them to trust me. I walked into the barn and there was silence. I smiled for the first time in over a year.

They too could see their predicament. Their potential freedom.

I had it all planned. He came home and we resumed our brutal, abusive relationship. I had a pretty bad cut on my left cheek that Ramsey wanted to show the dogs. You can only imagine his surprise and anger when his dogs refused to respond to my presence. Ramsey went around banging and screaming on the cages for a reaction.

He shouldn't have opened the cages.

He wasn't supposed to let anything happen to me but anger makes people forget. He was being led blindly to his death. How was he supposed to know that I had lined his jacket with meat? The same meat I would feed these beautiful dogs when he was gone. These animals understood everything. They hated their master just as much as I hated him.

I stayed to watch. At first I could feel the rush of excitement from the adrenaline course through my veins. I was aware of the smell of iron in my nostrils. I was aware of the tearing of tough, wet meat. When his screaming finally stopped, life hit mute as I could only hear the whoosh of my heart beating and my lungs crisply filling and deflating. I wasn't aware of time. The morning birds songs snapped me out of my state. The sun was coming up. I was filled with a new life. I was filled with a new hope.

My first kill.

I saw the opportunities that laid ahead of me. I remembered every person who lead me down this dark path. 

Lannisters. There were so many of them. 

Frey. 

Trent. 

Payne.

One that made my head turn even further.

Joffrey.

I knew Joffrey had taken a liking to Ramsey's darker lifestyle. Joffrey liked torment but he hadn't experienced just how deep the rabbit hole could go. I intended to show him the dark depths that light won’t reach.

The invitation was simple and quick. A text from Ramsey telling Joffrey to hurry up, that his pet was quite unruly and he didn't think he could contain himself this time around. The Lannister boy responded by saying to not be an idiot and he would be right there. Thirty minutes passed and the wheels of his lavish SUV grinding into the gravel stopped in front of the house. The servants let Joffrey in. The servants lead him to Ramsey's favorite room. They completed their final task before they were dismissed by a letter from the Bolton son. They too were held prisoners in a different game.

All sorts of kinky fuckery lined the walls. I stood naked in the corner. Joffrey was transfixed with all the tools and I watched as he looked.  
I waited.

He became agitated. I could tell he was uncomfortable. He never liked being touched. Even in the early days of our relationship, he could barely stand kissing. He never wanted to touch me and he never wanted me to touch myself.

At least not sexually.

He loved watching my flesh turn red when he smacked my cheek. He treasured the sound of my squeal when he gripped my arm or thigh hard enough. Now it was his turn to squeal.

When he called for Ramsey, I stepped forward.

"He would like me to show you what he has been teaching me," I state, void of any emotion.

As I expected, Joffrey squirmed. "Fuck off. I don't need a show and tell."

I didn't waiver. I never would again. "Pick anything from the walls. Let me show you what I can do for you."

Joffrey's face was turning red, his lips pushing together tightly. He turned his head and grabbed the first instrument within arm’s reach from the wall. He wanted this new sport over with already. Time is a beautiful thing. He would soon find out.

I loved his selection. I myself couldn't have chosen better. "Excellent choice, sir."

"Shut the fuck up Sansa, and put your fucking cloths back on." Joffrey was beyond uneasy. I had never seen him sweat. He was still merely a child playing an adults game. I would show him what he could aspire to be if he had been serious enough.

"All the better for you to see what you will do to me. Please, take a seat to enjoy the show." I was close to him, touching his shoulders as I guided him to the chair. I can see sweat on his face and panic behind his steely exterior. Finally, the lamb shows itself weakly disguised as a lion. As he sits down and as the chair clicks, realization takes over his features. He starts freaking out, panicking like a trapped animal. Now he can see the picture, but not the whole plan.  
Not yet.

Only I knew where the chair released the metal wrist and ankle clasps. He was miles away from the button. I smiled at him and he started shouting. "You whore! You cunt! You are dead when I get out of this-"

"Will I be Joffrey? That is beautiful. I have been begging for death since I came here. I didn't realize you would be my knight in shining armour." I was almost giddy by this point. A darkness deep in my belly laughed, full and hearty. It came spilling out of me.

"You’re fucking crazy," Joffrey screamed. He was shaking now, not just pulling against his restraints but he was fully terrified of me. It felt exceptional. "Let me out of this....this...thing IMMEDIATELY!"

"But Joffrey, you were promised a showcase of what I have been taught during my time here. It is only fair to share the beautiful world of pain laced with pleasure." I smiled as I held the metal phallus in my hand, holding it up for a quick study. "Hmmm, Ramsey hadn't used this on me yet but I think I have an idea on how he would like it to be utilized."

I walked up to Joffrey, pulling up on the back of the chair and securing his head with a strap. Smiling at him, I explained, "Can't have you go biting me when I take your pants off."

Joffrey spat at me and made noises but I paid no attention as I unbuckled his trousers and pull the material down to expose him.

Standing, I look at his tiny, shrunken penis. It was so scared that the foreskin had foreskin to hide itself under. "Wow, no wonder you never wanted to have sex. I would want that hidden as well."

He continued calling me names and even thought spitting at me would stop my intent, but I walked away, humming as I put the metal into the flames.  
Silence.

I love hearing the snaps and crackles of fire. It reminds me of home. Christmas morning and cold winter nights.

I turned back to Joffrey, a large smile on my face as I showed him the red hot metal in my gloved hand. "Now Joffrey," I start, admiring the rod before looking him right in the eyes. "I need you to sit very still. This is extremely hot and I don't want it to end up somewhere it shouldn't."

"You fucking bitch." He didn't sound so angry anymore. All his gusto was lost with this hot poker in my hand.

"Now, now Joffrey. This won't hurt a bit." Bending down, I line the poker up and before he can even wiggle, the deed is done. His screams are music to my ears. The smell of burnt flesh fills the room. My stomach grumbles hungrily. I stand in front of him until his voice goes hoarse. Through whispers I can hear him begging me. He keeps repeating the same word. "Please."

A boy with no manners was asking me politely for death. A relief from this nightmare.

I ignored him as he ignored me time and time again. I don’t say another word as I head for the door, leaving him to rot. No one would come to the house. No one ever came to the house. Everyone was gone now.

I shower and dress myself as a free woman. I put makeup on to disguise my bruises and cuts. I can't hide the swelling. I braid my hair and find a long dark wig with a fringe to disguise myself further. I step outside and admire the sunset in front of me. What a beautiful sight on such a beautiful day. 

I inhale sharply and head towards Joffrey’s SUV. There was so much more work to be done.


	4. Chapter 4

"The only DNA the lab found on his appendage was his own and a chemical compound that is found in the lubricants of condoms. If he had sex with the girl, she took her traces with her," the coroner explains. Petyr is pissed.

"No DNA elsewhere? Nothing?" He grills the man.

He shook his head before turning away from Petyr. "Sorry. Nothing."

Apparently this killer was smarter than he gave her credit for. They traced the mobile to the car. She had wanted them to find the vehicle. The mobile was on the gravel 100 feet away from the burning limo. The flames were dying down when they had arrived but the coroner was able to identify the person in the front seat as the driver.

And just like that, she had disappeared again. He was left with a dead end.

"Thanks for nothing then," he grumbles as he leaves. He never understood why the coroner wasted law enforcements time by having them come to the center of town to tell them no news. A simple phone call would have sufficed.

He leans against his car and lights up a cigarette. He takes a long drag and feels his lungs burn as he refuses to release the chemical smoke.

"You’re going to die from that nasty habit, Baelish," Ros says from inside the vehicle. Mirroring his words from days before.

"Ya, ya, ya," Petyr retorts, releasing the smoke. He doesn’t really enjoy smoking. Stress lead him to the habit and his job continues the vicious cycle. "What do you recommend I do in place of smoking?"

"Chew gum vigorously. Or workout," Ros suggests. He stamps out the cancer stick and properly disposes of it in the cemetery with the other. He used to have another passion, one that didn't burn his chest. As he slides into the seat, he decides to humour her.

"What flavor? I already run daily."

"Something minty. You better stop smoking so you can run harder." They make eye contact before laughing.

Ros puts the comedic gestures aside. "So, nothing good?"

Petyr barely shakes his head in response as he turns the car on. He likes their professional relationship. She knew when it was the right and wrong time to talk.

"So now we sit and wait for either another body to show up and pray for evidence, or we pretend we got something and run around with our thumbs up our ass," she offers. He sits for a moment, listening to the engine rumble. Deep inside Petyr, something else cackles. An old darkness he thought he had laid to rest.

"Something tells me we won't have long to wait.”


	5. Chapter 5

They didn’t have to wait long for another to call to come in. Another old fuck but this time not in a compromising sexual position. They found his body in an alley behind the Lannister's business building with his throat slit. Two separate wounds, both deep and on the jugular. Petyr crouches down in front of him, surveying the scene. This man didn't have a wound on his chest from navel to nipple but the familiar darkness from within Petyr was telling him the two murders are connected.

The man is Ilyn Payne, a man that had an infamous job of taking people out of the Lannister’s way. He was on Petyr’s department most wanted list. He had been behind a lot of crucial deaths, his distinguished method being one bullet wound to the back of his victims head. Rumor had it he was behind the deaths of the Stark family.

Petyr had been called to that bloodbath. The whole family had been murdered except the eldest daughter who had been spending the weekend at the Lannister's.

Petyr remembered the young girl's long red hair. She looked just like her mother, Catelyn. His fingers had twitched for the young Tully look alike.  
He had basically grown up in the Tully household. Petyr’s father had been missing and his mother wasn’t very motherly. Catelyn's father took Petyr under his wing and had him work at his business in exchange for a simple wage and food. He had left his business to Petyr when he died. The money was left to his daughters, their only inheritance. Petyr had closed the failing business shortly after he had acquired it and instead became a cop, fulfilling a childhood fantasy of heroism. He had hoped to grab Catelyn's attention and marry her but she was already in love. He made it back in time from the academy to see her walk down the aisle. Her hair was so bright when she was younger. The last time he had seen her, it had dulled considerably. Ned hadn't looked any better.  
He had escorted the young girl to the hospital. They had needed her to identify the bodies.

Tears stained her cheeks but with every cover drawn back, her complexion paled and her features hardened. Petyr knew the feelings she was experiencing. Sadness and the strongest of all, anger.

He had gone through the same grief when the seniored Tully had passed and when his childhood love married. He had been able to cope with those emotions with the help of a darkness deep inside him. He called that darkness Littlefinger. It had a mind of its own. Especially with pretty red headed prostitutes. Those were his favorite

He looked at the eldest Stark girl through the rearview mirror. Her eye’s was were stoic, but the silent tears traveling down her pale cheeks betrayed her steely exterior. The heavy drops wet her shirt. She blinked and her eye’s were looking back at him. They shared a look before he looked away. Littlefinger had nothing good to say, but Petyr had to agree with his dark friend. He swore she was begging him to end her life. When they had arrived at the Lannister's house, her lips parted as if she was going to say something. A different emotion showed in her eyes. Fear. Hunger. A darkness he was all too familiar with.  
A muscular man opened the car door. He was one of the Lannister's bodyguards. Petyr had a feeling the man had a brutal reputation. He was nicknamed The Mountain for his height alone but Petyr also wondered if it wasn't obtained for his behavior.

No one had heard of her since. She had been consumed by the Lannister lifestyle and apparently, by their stony walls. There was some talk of the Lannister's younger son getting married but that was squashed by the violent scene he had been found in months ago. A house owned by Ramsey Bolten, a rich tycoon's son with a hidden history of a cruel lifestyle. BD/SM was tame compared to the shit they found in that creeps house. The father had called the cops into the mess mainly so he could cash in on life insurance. The only story that had been unearthed was from the servants who had been dismissed by Ramsey himself earlier in the day through letters. Joffrey had been invited for some play time with Ramsey and it went sour, a business deal gone wrong. The poor bastard then went insane and let his dogs eat him. The remains of his carcass had been spread throughout the grounds. The coroner’s report read that the Lannister boy had died days later after the initial wound to his rectum from a metal phallus.

Many constables had lost their stomach to that scene.

Looking over Ilyn's corpse, Petyr decides he is going to quit smoking. He stands and walks to the closest newspaper stand. He hands the man a fiver in exchange for spearmint gum..

"Did you see anything?" Petyr puts his badge right into the guy's face to make sure he can see it.

The nameless fellow looks struck and shakes his head. "I aint 'ear nuffin’. All's I saw was a bitch in a black ‘aired wig steal a couple of me magazine's. She came 'auling ass out of that alley-"

Petyr turns, whistling for one of the corporals. The young officer bounds up to him. "Take this twats statement. He saw a woman leaving the alley in a hurry.”  
The officer nods and Petyr immediately heads back to his car, grabbing Ros along the way. He hates leaving the interview to the novice underling, but he has bigger fish to fry before more time ticks away.

"The same woman that was seen leaving Tywin's house was seen leaving the alley. Let’s see if the Eyes were watching and what they saw." Ros nods in understanding. His eyes search the buildings that surround, noting the many cameras. One of them has to have eyes on her.

"I'll get the ball rolling," she states, reaching for her mobile.

"No need," he responds. He leads the way through the traffic. "I have an old friend who still owes me a favour."


End file.
